


New Year's Plan

by fadedink



Series: Days of Christmas - 2012 [31]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/pseuds/fadedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Katie is the smartest, Orlando is still the prettiest, and Karl wonders how this is his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Year's Plan

**Author's Note:**

> The 'thirty-first day of Christmas' for [azewewish](http://azewewish.livejournal.com), because I'm ending like I started. :)

They curl together like kittens in a box, poking and prodding and rolling over each other until they're comfortable. Karl just watches in silence because he knows better than to say anything.

So what do we want to do for New Year's, Katie asks from the bottom of the pile of arms and legs, Orlando having won the battle to be on top (for now).

Go out and get drunk, he replies in a tone guaranteed to get him a smack or a hard poke in the ribs at the very least. It's New Year's.

We did that last year, she points out, and Karl just pretends to watch the telly.

It's safest and _usually_ saves him from being dragged into whatever argument they're currently having. Then Katie kicks his foot. Any suggestions from you would be appreciated.

We could always stay in, he says, knowing his plan will be shot down because that's how they roll.

And he's right. Orlando curls into a tiny ball, wheezing with laughter as Katie peers over his head at Karl. Stay in, she says, elbows digging into Orlando's back. Are you daft?

Knowing better than to answer, Karl just stands and heads for the kitchen. He's been meaning to make a pound cake.

***

It's a tradition, Orlando says without preamble, dropping onto the sofa beside Karl.

And it's a dumb one, Katie replies, settling herself on Karl's other side. You want to spend a bunch of money to hang out with a bunch of people you don't even know.

Part of the fun, Orlando insists, then tries to duck behind Karl when Katie swings a pillow at him.

Karl just sits quietly, trying to figure out how he always manages to end up in the middle. They're still squabbling about their plans ten minutes later when he excuses himself to check his sourdough starter.

***

What's this, Orlando asks, peering around Karl and reaching to poke at the bowl.

Marinade, Karl tells him, and smacks his hand with a wooden spoon. For dinner.

What're we having then, Orlando asks as he pulls himself up to sit on the counter.

Prime rib is all Karl says, neglecting to mention the side dishes all ready to be cooked.

Prime rib, Katie says, poking her head in the kitchen. I thought we were going out to dinner.

You didn't want to, Orlando reminds her, setting off another round of squabbling.

Karl just shoos them out of the kitchen with an order to go change for dinner.

***

Don't you look dashing, Katie says, waltzing into the kitchen in her fancy party dress, new high heels clicking on the tile. She twirls when Karl motions, then beams at him.

I like it, he says, simply, with a smile. You look pretty.

She always looks pretty, Orlando grumbles from the doorway. Even when she's just rolled out of bed and is all rumpled.

It's true, she says, giving Orlando and his tux the once over. But you're still the prettiest.

Karl knows that look. There won't be any squabbling tonight.

So this is your answer, Katie says, nibbling a breadstick that she managed to snag from beneath Karl's nose.

It beats fighting the crowds, Karl shrugs. And there's nothing we can do out that we can't do in.

There's dancing, Orlando points out, and Katie nods.

We have dancing, Karl says, gesturing towards the back patio with the lights strung from the rafters. And music and horns and party hats and fireworks.

Fireworks? Katie asks, perking up, and Karl smiles.

Sparklers, but they'll do, he says. I thought we could start a new tradition.

I like the way you think, Orlando says, sliding an arm around Karl's waist, reaching to pull Katie to him with the other.

Me, too, Katie chimes in, then tugs them out to the patio. Dancing first, then dinner.

Neither Karl nor Orlando argue. After all, Katie's plans are always good ones. And Orlando really is still the prettiest. 

A fact they remind him of when the clock counts down to midnight.


End file.
